


The House of Pig

by MrProphet



Series: Pigs, Shivs and Money [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 13:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrProphet/pseuds/MrProphet





	The House of Pig

"Consider the pig," he said. "It is not mighty like the bear, nor majestic like the eagle; it lacks the grace of the deer, the ferocity of the wolf or the simple bulk of the aurochs. But the pig prevails where other beasts die; it thrives on scrub and stone and meets each hunter without fear. The pig lives because it is too mean to surrender and too vicious to die.

"Consider the legends of Old Tusk. Oh, I know they'll tell you it's just a legend, that there is no monstrous boar in the heart of the Boarwood, but then some say the same of dire wolves. He's there all right; older than sin and meaner than time, a boar of boars and the luck of this House." He grinned crookedly. "Can you wonder at his temper?

"Now, I know some will say such talk is for pagans, but the Seven work their will through many messengers, and if there is a grear boar in these woods, watching over us, I choose to believe it is an agent of divine retribution, not a demon of the old ways.

"We can learn a lot from Old Tusk and his ilk. I know pigs, and you'll come to know them as well. You'll come to know their strengths and recognise them in us. House Aeyrith isn't mighty or majestic; we're not graceful, or fierce, and we're certainly not large. But meanness and viciousness? Those are traits that we possess in full measure.

"You will hear a phrase often as you grow: In the Game of Thrones, you win or you die. Well, not us. We've lost more times than a Maester could count, and we're still here; still scraping a living from the scrub."

He reached down and tousled the small, blonde head where it lay on the pillow. "The Heathen Bitch... I'm sorry; your loving mother tells me that Roland is of a mind that I should find a new parish. Honestly I think he'd turn his mind to whatever keeps her quiet and on her back, rather than steaming in her cups. No offence."

Richard Aeyrith rose easily to his feet. "I ought to go," he allows. "I'd have gone ages ago, only she wanted me to. Just be sure not to fall into pagan ways while I'm gone," he warned.

"I know she wants me gone as soon as possible, but it would be rude to go before Roland's boar hunt. I'll leave after, Seven willing.

"Sleep well, Helena."


End file.
